


Quantum Leap

by BuruRaven



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Agonizing Viktor, Canon Compliant Up To Episode 4, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Yuuri, Hurt/Comfort, I Personally Do, No Slash, You Can Totally See This As Building Up For A Romantic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuruRaven/pseuds/BuruRaven
Summary: Yuuri had silently crumbled onto the cold floor, like a puppet with its strings abruptly cut. His body, roughly disposed on his left side in a vaguely foetal position, was still sliding on the low-friction surface of the rink. This gliding motion was merely the result of the residual impulse from both competitors’ impact, no voluntary movement noticeable from where his coach stood. Viktor felt himself lurch towards Yuuri, fear rising in his throat.
This fic was born from fascinating and slightly insane late night conversations with my dear friend EmeraldInALocket. And also from watching a few terrifying YouTube videos about ice skating accidents… This is my first fanfiction attempt in this fandom, so be kind, please. You can also find this fic on my tumblr, here.





	1. Our greatest glory is not in never falling…

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmeraldInALocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldInALocket/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri!!! on Ice. Yuri!!! on Ice is the property of MAPPA and Avex Pictures, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this, nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

It was the final run through before the actual competition. All the skaters were on the rink, simultaneously practicing elements of their own choreographies one last time. Yuuri was carefully gaining a bit of ice space for his jump. When the path became clear of other competitors, he sped up and successfully landed his quadruple Salchow. It was technically irreprehensible; like all the others he’d landed so far during practice. He searched for Viktor - who stood watching his practice by the barriers - and smiled. Viktor gracefully smiled back and a few girls watching the run through on the benches screeched loudly as a result. In Japanese, it seemed. Were they Yuuri’s fans or his? Viktor shrug his shoulders, unconcerned. Same thing, same thing, really.

A woman spoke in Japanese through the speakers, repeating the message closely after in heavily accented English, “Gentlemen, five more minutes until the end of the run through. Please finish up.”

Yuuri was again trying to gain a clear path on the ice, he was skating backwards, his back towards the place where his coach stood, neck slightly twisted back so he could keep an eye out for any sudden intruders of his intended jump spot. When he was satisfied, Yuuri straightened his neck and sped up for the jump. And that’s when Viktor saw him. Another skater was about to land what seemed like a quadruple toe loop right in the perpendicular to Yuuri’s path, apparently not taking into account Yuuri’s current trajectory.

“Yu-”, was all that Viktor could scream out before it happened.

There was a mid-air collision, a surprisingly loud impact sound and a swift confusion of limbs. Next thing Viktor knew, both skaters were laying on the ground.

Yuuri had silently crumbled onto the cold floor, like a puppet with its strings abruptly cut. His body, roughly disposed on his left side in a vaguely foetal position, was still sliding on the low-friction surface of the rink. This gliding motion was merely the result of the residual impulse from both competitors’ impact, no voluntary movement noticeable from where his coach stood. Viktor felt himself lurch towards Yuuri, fear rising in his throat.

 _You haven’t suffered any major injuries and you’re younger than I am._ , his own words to Yuuri reverberated ominously in his head as he felt hands grabbing him, voices speaking to him in Japanese. He couldn’t understand all the words, but he knew what they were telling him. No one was allowed to assist a fallen skater on the rink unless they were part of the medical team.

And that was why none of the skaters around even came near Yuuri’s unmoving form, the other fallen skater included.

Said skater was now partially standing on his knees, supporting his torso up with both hands, apparently having some difficulty breathing. He also seemed to be saying something in Yuuri’s direction. Perhaps some sort of apology? Or perhaps he was merely calling out Yuuri’s name…

Not that Viktor really noticed any of this. His eyes had yet to leave Yuuri’s prone form. He could hear someone beside him - Minako-sensei? When had she gotten there?? - shouting for the medical team. And the fans on the bench were repeatedly screaming a single terrible word that Viktor wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe meant either “death” or “blood”. Viktor really hoped that it meant something else entirely.

He wanted to scream Yuuri’s name himself, but his throat seemed to have closed up somehow; he couldn’t even inhale properly.

 _Ne_. He had to calm down. Stuff like this happened sometimes, he knew this. He’d seen this happen many times before. Ice skating was a rather dangerous sport after all.

Suddenly, his field of vision was obstructed and he felt himself immediately panicking, that is, until he finally noticed that the people now hovering between him and Yuuri were none other but the much needed medical team.

A neck brace was applied, Yuuri’s body was transferred onto an orange stretcher, strapped down and carefully carried towards the barriers. And then Viktor was finally standing beside his fellow skater, his student, his friend, his…

Yuuri was just laying there. Pale, unmoving, a few stray locks of dark straight hair sticking to his left cheek, lips slightly parted, eyes closed. There was no apparent bleeding and he was breathing, Viktor noted relieved, albeit microscopically so.

A single tear was trapped in the inner corner of Yuuri’s left eye. All of Viktor’s attention focused solely on that painful little tear and he felt faint. Someone - Minako-sensei - tightened their grasp on Viktor’s right bicep as he started to blindly follow the stretcher and its unreactive passenger. They were talking to him.

“… ride with… on the ambulance? … Nikiforov-san?”

“Da.”, he replied automatically. Then noticed the language shift. “Sorry. Yes. Yes, please. Let me ride on the ambulance.”


	2. …but in rising every time we fall.

“And how is he? Is he very hurt?”, Yuuri asked again.

Viktor smiled at the young man sitting up on the hospital bed and patiently, almost tenderly, told Yuuri what he knew about the condition of the other fallen skater.

“No. A couple broken ribs. It’s painful, but nothing serious. He’ll be fine.”

This was his third time answering these questions since Yuuri regained consciousness. And Viktor suspected Yuuri had asked the same thing to the nurses during the medical tests he’d been put through and even before Viktor and Minako were allowed inside the room. She was absent at the moment, grabbing some coffee and making some calls.

“Ah. That’s a relief…”, Yuuri said with a small but sincere smile, only to frown comically at Viktor, “Have I asked you this before? I feel like I’m making you repeat yourself…”, he looked somewhat mortified, “Oh, I really think that I have…! I’m sorry.”

Viktor momentarily wondered what precisely had Yuuri seen in Viktor’s face that had led him to that accurate but rather unexpected conclusion.

“It’s okay. The doctor said that you have a minor concussion. You’ll be back to normal in a few days.”

Yuuri fixed his gaze on his clasped hands.

“I’m sorry.”, me murmured in the general direction of his lap.

“Eh? What for?”, Viktor cheerfully disputed.

“… I messed up.”

Yuuri looked so small, so miserable when those words shakily left his beautiful lips, pale hands pitifully spasming on his lap… Viktor couldn’t allow this. He stood up from his plastic chair in a single decided motion and gracefully sat on the edge of Yuuri’s bed, staring straight at the concussed athlete. But not even the surprise resulting from Viktor’s sudden repositioning in the room was enough to make Yuuri raise his miserably slumped head.

“Yuu-uri.”, Viktor drawled in a soft, oddly encouraging whine.

Astonishingly, Yuuri only seemed to dive further into his gloom.

He did shiver in pleasant shock the moment Viktor’s left hand cupped the uninjured right side of his face. The hand touching his cheek was warm, though, and the thumb was drawing soft soothing circles on his skin there. It was also slowly pulling Yuuri’s face upwards until his teary eyes were forced to meet Viktor’s smiling ones.

“Yuuri, accidents happen. They happen to the careful and to the careless, to the good and to the bad… We must step over the bumps on the rink to achieve a higher jump. I know that you’ll jump over this fall. I believe in you. Just believe with me. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded once, beautiful brown eyes wide open. Then, fresh tears were back in Yuuri’s eyes. Viktor wondered if the concussion had gotten in the way of his message.

“Yuuri? What’s wrong?”, he urged gently, again caressing the younger’s cheek soothingly.

“N-nothing is wrong. I’m just… so… grateful that you are… here.”, he whispered through a positively red face.

Viktor chuckled fondly.

“No. I am the one who’s grateful to be able to be by your side.”, Viktor purred seductively while leaning towards Yuuri. His thumb had stopped his circling movements on Yuuri’s cheek and was now on Yuuri’s chin, gently pushing down, coaxing Yuri’s lips to part. Their foreheads came to rest softly against each other, their noses stood only millimetres apart, Yuuri closed his eyes, finally surrendering, and then…

… The hospital room door burst open.

Yuuri jumped in place, immediately putting some distance between Viktor and himself. Not much, though, and Viktor’s arm was still there, holding its previous position in what was now just thin air.

Yuuri’s mother and father, Minako-sensei, Yuuko and her three skating otaku daughters all barged inside the suddenly much smaller and louder room, all speaking simultaneously in fast Japanese.

“Oh, Yuuri…!”, cooed his mother.

“How are you feeling, my son?”, asked his father, looking concerned.

“Why is Viktor sitting like that?”, blurted out Lutz.

“Why are you so red, Yuuri?”, added Axel.

“Why are you turning redder still, Yuuri? Are you in pain?”, insisted Loop mercilessly, starting to pull out her phone with a menacing sort of grin.

“Stop that, you three. Let Yuuri breathe.”, Yuuko lightly chastised them, then landed a short but sharp slap on the back of Loop’s hand, to stop her from pulling out her technological weapon of mass destruction.

Viktor couldn’t fully understand all that was being said, but he got the gist of it. He released a cheerful, energetic laugh and threw his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders in a fluid movement which felt every inch quotidian, gently squeezing.

“Yuuri is okay! And, because we are together, he will soon become great!”

Yuuri smiled shyly and squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > The quote I butchered in two for the chapters’ titles, "Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.", belongs to Confucius.
> 
> > In case you weren’t familiar with the term, a quantum leap is "a very important improvement or development in something".


End file.
